What Now
by m0ntymiller
Summary: Monty Green made it out of Mt. Weather, but can he deal with the guilt? Disclaimer: I do not own The 100 or any of the characters. Duh.
1. Chapter 1

Monty woke in a cold sweat. Curling into a ball, he clutched his hands over his ears. Nightmares were supposed to end after you woke up, but these ones didn't. The sound of drills and screams echoed in Monty's mind as he lay there shivering.

"It's over. You're out. Jasper's alive. Harper's alive. Miller's alive. Clarke, Raven, Bellamy…they're all alive," Monty whispered.

The familiar stench of burnt skin and blood attacked his nose, causing bile to build in the back of his throat. Monty focused on taking deep breaths as he firmly repeated, "We survived. We escaped. You're in a tent. You're out. You're out…"

Minutes passed before the noises faded, replaced by a pounding in his head. Monty let go of his hands drop and pulled the blanket around him tighter. It was more of an attempt to ground him rather than keep him warm, seeing as nothing could take the chill away. Monty had left Mt. Weather, but the hellish place hadn't left him. Images of Maya and Mrs. Ryan haunted his thoughts, the blood vivid behind closed lids.

Monty wanted to go to Jasper's tent with every fiber of his being, but Monty wouldn't find him there. The boy in that tent wasn't his Jasper. This Jasper wouldn't talk to Monty. He couldn't even look at him. This Jasper was cold and empty and silent. Monty's mind replayed the scene of Jasper sobbing over Maya's body.

_How could you let this happen?_

"I'm sorry," Monty's voice trembled. "I'm so sorry."

Tears streamed down his cheeks, and continued to flow until exhaustion took over.

…

"Monty, be totally honest with me. Which brace is better?" Wick asked, holding up the options.

"I'm not getting in the middle of this. We just got out of a war. I don't want to start another," Monty answered, making Raven snort.

"He's being nice. He likes mine," Wick told Raven.

"Or he doesn't want to hurt your feelings. Besides, who needs a brace when you have wheels?" Raven joked, rolling her wheelchair towards the working bench.

Even though Raven hadn't had as many drills poked into her as Harper, the prior surgery on her leg left her more bruised and battered after her drillings. Abby ordered bed rest, but it was Raven. She'd be damned before being useless. The wheelchair was their compromise.

Monty understood. He too had thrown himself into his work since their return, desperate to be a source of help again. The morale boost from hanging out with Raven and Wick was a perk. It was a bit weird to see them kiss, but overall he was happy for them. Secretly, Monty knew they were the only ones he could stand to be around for long amounts of time. He might as well have been dead to Jasper, and Monty did his best to check on Harper, but the flashbacks of cages resulted in minor panic attacks. Bellamy had broken the news of Clarke's departure to him the day after she left. This stung. Monty's time with Clarke was brief, and surrounded by a darkness he would do anything to forget. He couldn't blame her for leaving, especially since the prospect had crossed his mind as well. Monty could leave and pretend it was all truly just a dream; a figment of his twisted imagination, but leaving would do more damage than good. He needed to cling to every scrap of humanity this planet had left. If it presented itself in the form of Wick and Raven's flirtatious bantering then so be it.

If Monty felt this way, he could only imagine how Bellamy felt about the situation, which is why Monty only spent so much time with him. Bellamy needed time to process, and he was insanely busy with assisting the "adults" (Monty found it weirdly hilarious that the delinquents were still considered children). Wherever Bellamy went, Miller followed. The two had fallen into their original delegate and execute relationship, but even more efficiently, communicating with nothing more than a side-glance or nod. Monty himself remembered the signals between him and Miller while in the mountain. Reading the emotions on one another's face or listening to the true meaning within the tone of voice. Thoughts drifting into a rarely visited territory, Monty's attention slipped from his hands. He jumped as a spark from the wires burned his finger.

"How's it coming Monty boy?" Wick questioned, screwing and unscrewing panels.

"It's coming," Monty replied dryly. The three had spent their week constructing a radar system, and moved onto the daunting task of a radio. Longer range and higher quality was the goal, for the slim chance of other ark survivors trying to reach them. There was also a team dedicated to mapping out the land and finding resources around camp. The Blake siblings, Miller, and Monroe had formed a squad, and were conquering serious ground under the leadership of Lincoln. Food, medical, and radio were the priorities now, but there was tension in the atmosphere. The whole camp seemed to be holding their breath, waiting for the next disaster to reveal itself.

Wick put a hand on Monty's shoulder. "I'm sure it'll get done with my main man on the job," he grinned. Monty forced a thin-lipped smile in return. Wick gave his shoulder a squeeze and went to assist Raven with the circuits.

Human contact was a doubled edged sword. Monty craved it, a reminder that people he loved had survived, but it cut him with the belief that he didn't deserve it. How could he? After what he'd done?

Monty's stomach lurched.

"I'll be back in a minute, I have to use the restroom," he excused himself.

Having been in the mountain as long as he had, Monty's eyes had become extremely sensitive to sunlight. He blinked his eyes, getting them to adjust so he could see where he was going, but it didn't happen in time. The collision knocked Monty to the ground with a thud. Head spinning and wounds throbbing, Monty shakily got back on his feet. The impact hurt more than it should have, the soreness another side effect of the procedures he underwent in Mt. Weather. What hurt the most was recognizing the person he collided with.

Jasper's face was emotionless as he sat on the ground.

"Jasper let me-"

"Don't," Jasper's voice horse. He ignored Monty's outstretched hand and pushed himself off the ground. Monty watched his friend in silent terror. Jasper's movements were unnaturally slow and robotic, realization of how much weight he'd lost when in the mountain hitting Monty like a blow to the gut. Jasper didn't even brush the dirt off his clothes before passing around him.

"Wait! Jasper-" Monty began.

"Stop," Jasper snapped, turning around fast enough to make Monty dizzy. His eyes bore into Monty's, sending shivers down Monty's spine from the absolute dullness of them. "I don't want to talk to you ever again."

Monty did his best to swallow the lump in his throat, but he'd have better luck trying to swallow a pile of nails.

"You don't mean that, you're just angry. I'm still you're best friend."

"I can't be friends with a monster," Jasper stated.

Monty's blood went cold. There was a rushing in his ears and hot tears blurred his vision.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

Bellamy's voice sounded far away, but Monty felt his presence next to him.

"You can both drop dead," Jasper spat. Monty flinched.

"Cool it," Bellamy ordered, but Jasper's black eyes never left Monty's.

Brain switching on autopilot, Monty's legs carried him away from the scene. He vaguely heard Bellamy call his name, but he refused to turn back. _Monster. _Wasn't he though? Bellamy and Clarke might have pulled the lever, but Monty programmed the radiation. Each type of the button had sealed a person's fate. An innocent person's fate. People with families and friends. People like Maya who risked their lives in order to save his, and he killed them.

Sobs wracked Monty's body, as he collapsed on the ground somewhere behind camp. Jasper was right. He was every bit as much of a monster as Cage and Dr. Tsing. Their horrible actions were done to save their people, just as Monty's were. _Die. _That's what Monty had told Maya. _Die. _

The screams and drill noise returned, accompanying the scene of Mrs. Ryan's murder. Monty hugged himself, but it was pointless. He was a monster. A monster falling apart.


	2. Chapter 2

Miller clicked his handgun to safety and stuck it in the waistband of his pants. Man was it nice to have a gun again. Sure, Miller could use anything as a weapon, but the result of a gun was final. It was security, something he'd missed while in Mt. Weather, and he didn't plan on giving it up anytime soon.

Leaving the mountain had been surreal. He'd been chained to a wall, waiting to be drilled into until there was nothing left, but then Octavia freed them. Everything was a blur once they got outside. Seeing the sun again for the first time in ages, smelling the pine trees and feeling the wind on his face. It went to his head, overwhelming his senses. Miller had been silent all the way back, as were the others. But they made it. Goodness had they made it.

"What's the plan for today Nate?" David Miller inquired. Looking over his son's shoulder, he observed the map spread out on the bottom bunk. The camp decided families could squeeze into the bunkers while those without could take the tents until construction was complete. Tents were pitched slightly to the side, and behind the camp in case any visitors snuck through the gates. Guilt gnawed at Miller, because not being in a tent meant that his family, or parent in his case, had survived. He'd buried the sadness that emerged whenever he remembered telling the parents of their dead child back at the drop ship. The complete despair and helplessness were recognizable when the delinquents had returned from Mt. Weather and more parents found out they'd lost a child. Beneath his guilt was thankfulness, however, because Miller did have his dad next to him. A weight had been taken off his shoulders when his David had hugged him in that god forbidden torture room. _All is forgiven. We're going home. _Miller had cried into his father's shoulder when he'd heard it, wiping the tears away before ushering people out of the mountain.

"Food patrol mostly. We want to have extra for when this storm comes," Miller informed, moving his finger along the trail on the map.

The techies had built weather radar, which alerted the camp to the massive rainstorm on its way. The rest of the camp was busy constructing a makeshift irrigation system to catch the rainwater. Hopefully they'd save enough to start planting crops and let everyone breathe a little.

"Be careful. If you need me I'll be with squad alpha," David said, clapping Miller on the back. His hand rested a second longer than it used to back on the Ark. Back when things were simple.

"Will do pops," he assured, grabbing his bag and heading outside.

Miller lifted his face to the sun and took in a breath of clean air. Half of the reason he joined Lincoln's squad was because it was an excuse to be outside a majority of the day. The mountain had only increased Miller's claustrophobia, and he was taking advantage of the opportunity to explore the outdoors. He saw Octavia and Lincoln crouched down and drawing something in the dirt with sticks, so he went to investigate. "The stream flows this direction, so the soil in this quadrant would be best," Lincoln explained, pointing to a rectangle he'd drawn.

"How bad do you think this storm is going to be?" Miller joined in.

"Not sure," Lincoln replied. "Hopefully not as bad as the one that hit when we were in the drop ship."

There were a few regrets Miller carried with him in life. To him, regrets were a waste of energy. If he did it in the first place, then there was a reason for it, and therefore no need to be shameful about it. Miller did, however, regret what he did to Lincoln when they were in the dropship. Not a man of many words, Miller had apologized to Lincoln in his own way. Volunteering for duties, holding back sarcastic comments during their outings. Lincoln noticed and accepted these offerings, placing responsibilities on Miller and asking how his father was. The two never spoke of the past, but they were civil towards one another.

"What the hell is wrong now?" Octavia interrupted, looking past Miller.

Miller turned his head to see Bellamy poking Jasper in the chest, scolding him. The three took off in their direction when Jasper shoved Bellamy.

Miller wrapped an arm around Bellamy to keep him from going back at Jasper.

"What's going on?" Octavia asked Bellamy, but her eyes were fixed on Jasper.

"What you called Monty was uncalled for. If you're going to blame anyone, blame me," Bellamy ignored his sister's question.

"What did you call Monty?" Miller turned toward Jasper, releasing Bellamy. They'd been so preoccupied in their projects that Miller hadn't gotten a chance to talk to Monty. The two became close in the mountain, maybe closer than Miller had originally thought. He wasn't able to sort out his feelings towards Monty while they were fighting off mountain men, but a part of him hoped they'd be able to now that they were relatively free again.

"I'm only speaking the truth, and I won't place all the blame on you to spare Monty. He's just as responsible for her- their death as you and Clarke are," Jasper faltered.

"You need to get over it," Octavia stepped toward Jasper. "Yes, it was tragic, but there wasn't another option. If they hadn't done what they had none of us would be standing here right now."

"Bullshit!" Jasper exclaimed, a black rage in his eyes. "We could have fought! You think you're some fierce warrior but you support their easy way out."

"Easy? You think the decision we had to make was easy?" Bellamy stood within an inch of Jasper's face. "Even if we fought, we would have lost. We were out numbered and out matched."

"Those people you murdered were trying to help us," Jasper countered.

"They knew the risks," Miller spoke.

"Stay out of this Miller!" Japer's eyes darted to him and then back to Bellamy.

Miller's nostrils flared and he balled his fists. Love had clouded Jasper's judgment in the mountain, and now the loss of Maya was consuming him.

"Go apologize to Monty," Bellamy ordered.

"There's nothing to apologize for," Jasper replied coldly, and with that he stormed away.

Bellamy ran his has through his hair in exasperation. Miller had noticed the change in the rebel leader, the shadows under his eyes, how much he put it on himself to look after the delinquents. Miller too felt a stronger sense of care towards the kids he'd crashed into Earth with. No longer kids, really, and substantially fewer lives left.

"He was worse than I imagined," Octavia commented.

"We need to find Monty before worrying about him," Bellamy decided. "I'll get Harper on it so that we can focus on getting food."

"I can stay back and help her," Miller offered, still curious as to what Jasper could have said to Monty to incur Bellamy's anger.

Bellamy gave Miller a sad look. "I appreciate it, but we need all the help we can get before this storm."

A flicker of annoyance crossed Miller's face, but he stifled it. Bellamy was right. They needed extra food, and Harper was more than capable.

"I'll go tell Harper, you guys find Monroe and get ready to leave," Bellamy instructed.

They followed his command and prepared to exit the gates of camp. Miller instinctively brushed his hand over the gun on his hip. His shoulder's relaxed at the touch. Never again was he, or anyone he loved, going to be chained up. Never again.

…

Miller found it funny how differently people reacted to him on Earth. In the ark, he was under constant, disapproving looks. The adults treated him as a criminal, and nothing else. Their faces would crinkle like they smelled garbage. It was night and day from the cheers he got when he and the rest walked through the gates.

The squad returned not only with bags full of berries and nuts, but Lincoln and he managed to catch a load of fish. People complimented Miller, but the sole source of pride Miller felt was the smile his dad gave him.

"You all did a fine job," Kane announced, and then turned his attention to Lincoln. "All of you."

Lincoln nodded in acknowledgment.

Night had settled by the time they'd returned to camp, and people were starting fires to squeeze in the last bit of work. Miller headed toward squad alpha to be with his dad, but he stopped in his tracks when he saw Harper running towards him.

"Miller, I can't find Monty," she grabbed his arm, her tone panicked.

"You've been looking this whole time?" he kept his tone calm for Harper's sake. Inside, Miller was freaking.

"I've checked everywhere. He's not in any of the rooms, he's not with Jasper or Wick or Raven," Harper rambled. Her bond with Monty had become steel when Dr. Tsing captured them. They were the ones to experience the bone marrow horrors first. There was an unspoken agreement to look out for each other, and Harper was breaking it. Miller saw the anxiety on Harper's face, and took the flashlight from her.

"You've done the best you can. Go let Bellamy know that I'm going to find him and I'll radio back when I do," Miller told her, placing a hand on her shoulder. He was attempting to get better at the whole comforting thing, because heaven knows his people needed it.

Harper nodded, eyes watering, and took off towards Bellamy. Miller sighed. Truth was, he was scared. He didn't think Monty would hurt himself, not after they fought so long to survive, but no one left the mountain mentally unscathed. Jasper's actions toward Monty was the breaking point, at least, that's what he assumed. Whatever Jasper had said to him, Miller knew Monty well enough to know he'd believe it.

"If I was a sad computer hacker where would I go?" Miller said to himself. Monty wouldn't be inside, there's no way to hide without being noticed. He wondered to the techie's workshop, but only Raven and Wick were there.

"He couldn't have gone too far," Miller reminded himself, his panic rising. His distrust for the grounders had grown when he heard the deal they made with Dante. What if Monty went too far into the woods and was captured? The familiar feeling of dread washed over him. Last time Monty was captured, he'd been drilled into. Miller picked up the pace.

Behind the camp, there was a trail that his squad had gone down the first day back. It led to the drop ship, which they had revisited to gather the slim amount of supplies that remained. Miller didn't know where else to go, so he started on the trail.

It wasn't long before his flashlight caught something in the foliage. Miller squinted at the orange object poking out from behind a tree. Hand on his gun, flashlight in the other, Miller crept towards it, cautious to not step on any sticks. It appeared to be fabric. Miller was almost standing beside it when it suddenly shifted.

"Monty?"

Miller exhaled the breath he'd been holding. Shiny, brown eyes peeked up at him from an orange blanket, but Monty didn't say anything.

Sitting down beside him, Miller clicked the flashlight off. The moonlight illuminated their surroundings enough to see. He rested his back against the tree and glimpsed at Monty. His eyes were red, and the blanket was stretched tightly around his trembling frame. Miller hadn't seen Monty like this before, and he didn't like it. Not one bit.

"Where'd you get this from?" Miller addressed the blanket. Asking him what he was doing out here would have been a pointless question.

"The drop ship," Monty's voice weak.

"Next time you want to take a day trip, maybe you should invite someone," Miller advised.

"Logically, it made sense," was Monty's response.

"Going to the drop ship alone?"

"Killing them."

Miller was silent for a beat. "Yes. It made sense."

"But morally, it was wrong," Monty stated.

_Dammit Jasper _Miller cursed in his head. He put an arm around Monty's shoulders, pulling him close. Monty subconsciously scooted closer to him for body heat, his shoulder pressed into Miller's chest.

Miller dropped his head and lowered his pitch, "You saved us Monty. You did the _right thing_."

"That doesn't mean I'm not a monster."

Miller's mouth went dry. Jasper would know the word to hurt his friend the most, knew what tone to speak it in so he would believe it. Monty Green, the person who gave people hope, the most optimistic person Miller knew, thought he was a monster. Miller strengthened his grip on him.

"You're not a monster. Any of us would have done the same thing." Miller paused. "When they got my dad, I'd never been so furious in my life. Watching them hurt him…I swore I'd kill every person in that place."

Monty's eyes flickered up at him, and then back down to the ground. "I wish I was as strong as you."

Miller's heart ached.

"No Monty, no you don't. There's only one Monty Green in this world, and we need him. Don't mistake your kindness for weakness."

Monty's bottom lip quivered. _Oh no _Miller thought, wrapping his other arm around him, bringing Monty into a hug.

"Do you get them too?" Monty whispered. "The nightmares?"

Of course he did. Miller got them regularly, and made a conscious effort to push them out of his mind. It was always the same. One of his friends or his dad would be strapped on the table, a drill inserted into every inch of available skin. Miller would be chained to the wall, as someone he loved was tortured before his eyes.

Monty hadn't waited for an answer before tears rolled down his cheeks. Miller fought back his own.

"C'mon. Time to go back," Miller spoke softly, and pulled Monty up to his feet.

Miller practically held Monty up the rest of the way back to camp. The day's events took its toll on Monty. Miller half expected him to fall asleep standing up. He snuck Monty into his room, and explained the situation to his father.

"Of course he can," David agreed, and Miller deposited an exhausted Monty onto the bottom bunk bed. He was out in seconds, and Miller made sure to leave his orange blanket secured around him.

Miller, refusing to kick his old man out, found Monty's tent and kicked off his shoes before stepping in. He then radioed Bellamy.

"Thank God," Bellamy's relief crackled through the speaker. "Good job Miller."

Miller didn't see it as a job well done. He found Monty, but Monty was gone in his head. He thought he was a monster. Miller wasn't sure how he'd accomplish it, but he vowed to make Monty see himself for what he truly was. Good.


End file.
